


Reset

by StormyDaze



Category: Prey (Video Game 2017)
Genre: Blood, Clothed Sex, Enemies to Lovers, First Time, Frottage, Kissing, M/M, Selfcest, Smut, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:22:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25557280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormyDaze/pseuds/StormyDaze
Summary: It’s gone wrong. Everything is wrong, there’s blood on the ground and on Morgan’s hands andAlexSarahDanielleMikhailaso much blood.
Relationships: Typhon Morgan Yu/Original Morgan Yu
Comments: 3
Kudos: 35
Collections: Battleship 2020, Battleship 2020 - Yellow Team





	Reset

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wednesday](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wednesday/gifts).



It’s gone wrong. Everything is wrong, there’s blood on the ground and on Morgan’s hands and  _ AlexSarahDanielleMikhaila _ so much blood.

He can fix it. He’s lived his life in infinite loops, unable to see them at the time but in hindsight they layer on top of each other, every death, every failure, every time he wasn’t good enough. There was always another try, because Alex would never give up. Morgan won’t give up either. He can fix this.

The chair that Alex kept him in, the place where he was born, what seems like ages ago, is still there, in the bunker. The technology springs to life under his fingers like the coral pervading everything outside. His hands turn black and he wills them back to the tan color of Morgan’s flesh. He can’t lose himself, he needs to hang onto the memories if he’s going to save them.

He doesn’t know how long he works. Long enough for the blood to dry on his hands and flake off onto the ground. Long enough that he feels lightheaded from lack of food and water. He doesn’t dare stop. He knows that Morgan would sometimes power on for days at a time when working on a project, fueled only by Kafe Karsk.

He can tell immediately when it works. His body feels like it dissolves, and he barely has time to hope that he hasn’t made any major miscalculations before he lands hard on the stone path in the Arboretum. Back on Talos I.

He struggles to his feet and gets his bearings. There’s no coral twining through the trees. He checks the nearby area and finds no bodies lying twisted and grasping under the bushes, either. He’s done it. This is where he’s supposed to be.  _ When  _ he’s supposed to be.

He’s not sure what he’s going to do now. If he goes to Alex first, will Alex believe him? Or would it be better to find his double, tell Morgan the truth and get him on board to convince everyone else? 

He’s just about decided to try Morgan’s office first when Danielle comes out of the elevator and stops short. “What the hell happened to you?” she blurts out.

Morgan looks down at the dried blood staining his jumpsuit brown. He probably still has some smeared on his face, too. Whoops.

“It’s not mine,” he says, which may be the wrong thing. 

Danielle’s eyes go wide. Her hand drifts down to her gun.

“I’m going to call Alex,” she says, probably deciding that this is above her pay grade. The hand that isn’t on her gun goes for her transcribe. Morgan sighs but doesn’t move. He’d probably survive getting shot, but he wouldn’t enjoy it.

“Alex, we have a Morgan situation,” she says. “He’s in the Arboretum, covered in dried blood. I need you up here ASAP.”

There’s a moment of silence from the other end. “Morgan is in the Neuromod Division with me,” Alex says slowly. “I’m looking at him right now.”

Danielle drops her transcribe, draws her gun, and fires three shots into Morgan’s stomach.

He’s right; he doesn’t enjoy it at all.

* * *

He wakes up in Psychometrics, strapped to a table. Fun. At least he’s not dead.

He knows his face is not his, but it’s still strange to see his double looming over him. 

“It’s definitely integrated human DNA, not just possessing a body,” Morgan says. “It shouldn’t be able to do that.” Morgan wonders if anyone else can detect a hint of panic in Morgan’s voice, or if it’s just because he knows him better than anyone.

“We should chuck that thing in the recycler before it kills us all,” Danielle says. She still has her gun drawn, although it’s not actually pointed at him. Small mercies.

“If the Typhon have adapted in a new way, we need to figure out how,” Alex says. “This could be a huge breakthrough.”

“This  _ could _ be a huge threat,” Danielle argues.

“Morgan, you wanted to experiment with putting human DNA in Typhon,” Alex said. “Looks like it started the experiment for you. Finish it.”

Morgan clears his throat. “You could just  _ ask  _ me,” he says. “And I am not an  _ it. _ ” Genders are a human thing, but Morgan is at least part human now, enough to understand the implicit insult in the choice of pronouns.

They stare at him. “Well, this I want to hear,” Morgan says.

He tells them everything. 

Danielle speaks up first. “Well, either it’s insane, or it thinks we’re really stupid if we’d believe that.”

Morgan can practically see the wheels in Alex’s brain turning. “It could be telling the truth,” he says. “We’ve seen stranger.”

“ _ When _ ?” Morgan demands.

“Can I sit up while we continue this conversation?” Morgan asks. He could mimic his way out of the restraints, but he doesn’t think that would go over well.

After some arguing, they agree to undo the wrist restraints and let him sit up, but they keep the ankle restraints on. Danielle clicks the safety off her gun with a meaningful look at him.

The rest of the argument is long and, to Morgan’s mind, boring. He’s told them everything he can; now he just has to wait for them to sort it out themselves. Danielle wants him recycled into exotic material immediately. No surprises there. He thinks about another discussion like this one, when she argued that he was human enough to deserve a chance, and tries not to feel hurt. It’s not her fault.

Alex wants to find out more. That’s Alex to a T, always keeping his options open, looking for angles he can work.

Morgan is uncharacteristically quiet. Morgan tries to figure out what he’s thinking, imagining what  _ he  _ would be thinking in his place, but it’s like looking into a mirror reflecting another mirror, an endless stream of images disappearing into the horizon, and Morgan gives up.

“I’ll keep doing the experiments,” Morgan says. “We’ll put it in the most secure cell we’ve got. I’ll— I’ll figure it out, whatever it is.”

Morgan sighs. Well, it could have gone worse.

* * *

They stick him in a cell. Morgan successfully negotiates for a cot and a Starbender novel; he never did get to read that last one.

It turns out that Morgan is a pretty difficult person to get along with. Morgan knew, from transcribe recordings, that Morgan was kind of an ass, but experiencing it is something different.

“Look, if you’re going to go poking around in my head, I want to know what you’re  _ doing, _ ” Morgan says.

“You wouldn’t understand,” the other Morgan says, not looking up from the screen. (He probably wouldn’t appreciate being “the other Morgan,” would probably argue that he’s the original. Whatever, he can’t read Morgan’s mind.)

“How many times do I have to say it? If you understand it, I’ll understand it, because  _ I’m you _ !”

“You are  _ not  _ me,” Morgan snaps. “You’re a genetically modified abomination with stolen memories and an identity disorder.”

Morgan levitates the bed and hurls it at the glass between him and the other Morgan, who leaps backwards, but the glass doesn’t even crack. It’s built to withstand tougher things than him.

A sick feeling bubbles up in his gut. He has to stay calm, because if he scares them too much, if they decide to kill him, he’ll never be able to save them all. Then all of this will have been for nothing.

“Sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you apologizing?” Morgan asks. He snorts. “Now I  _ know  _ you’re not me.” But there’s a tremble in his hand as he goes back to work.

* * *

“I can’t come up with any other possibilities,” the other Morgan says to Alex. “He’s who he says he is. You and I are the only people who could do this.”

“We don’t know what the Typhon are capable of,” Alex says.

“Well, if they can do this, we’re fucked,” Morgan says frankly. “Look, I don’t like it either, but I am totally out of other ideas here. Occam’s Razor.”

“The simplest explanation involves a time-traveling human-Typhon hybrid?” Alex asks skeptically.

“Unfortunately, yes.” 

“So… will you let me out now?” Morgan asks from inside the cell.

Alex and Morgan look at each other. “He could still be a threat,” Alex says.

They don’t seem to have noticed they’ve switched pronouns for him, and Morgan isn’t going to point it out, but it’s a good sign.

“He could be,” Morgan agrees, “but we’re not going to get anything else out of him. Either let him out or recycle him. I don’t care.”

Okay, maybe not.

Alex sighs. “Let him out. And when Danielle comes to complain about it, send her to me.”

It’s a start.

* * *

Morgan wakes him up the next day by throwing a can of Kafe Karsk at his head. “Lab in five,” he says. “You’re going to tell me  _ everything. _ From the beginning. If I have to save the universe, I’m not doing all the work by myself.”

Fair enough. They go to the lab and start sifting through all the data Talos I has collected, which is a lot. Morgan tries to remember what’s missing, what they haven’t discovered yet but will soon, but his brain is stuffed full of more memories than he can keep straight. He’s probably not as much help as Morgan was hoping, but he’s trying his best.

“Will you stop muttering to yourself?” the other — the original — Morgan snaps. “You sound like a fucking lunatic.”

“Like you weren’t doing the same goddamn thing,” Morgan spits back, yanking a hand through his hair. They both look a little wild-eyed, too much caffeine and too long crunching numbers and the sword of  _ AlexSarahDanielleMikhailablood  _ hanging over their heads. 

It’s a good look on them.

Okay, Morgan knows he’s vain. Ogling your double is a new low, though. The other Morgan meets his eyes, and for a moment they hold that gaze.

They move at the same time, fingers grasping the slick material of the Transtar uniform, jamming their mouths together in something more violent than could reasonably be called a kiss. It’s a challenge, a battle.

It’s nothing like kissing Mikhaila, or any of Morgan’s other flings. It’s like the lightning sprint from the bridge to the shuttle bay with the countdown ticking down in the corner of his HUD, adrenaline and desperation. Morgan finds himself pinned against the wall, tangling one hand in his double’s hair and fumbling for his jumpsuit’s zipper with the other.

The other Morgan jolts a little when he feels Morgan’s erection press against his thigh. Morgan can see questions about Typhon anatomy threatening to derail things, and he emphatically doesn’t want to have to justify himself when instead he could be glorying in this feeling of being alive. He reaches into Morgan’s suit and grips his cock with just the right amount of pressure to make Morgan moan. 

The angle’s different from what he’s used to, but he knows that Morgan likes to rub right under the head, that he’ll tease his slit in the beginning but that he wants it hard and fast at the end. Meanwhile, the other Morgan has found that sensitive spot right under Morgan’s ear and is nipping it just hard enough to bruise, and Morgan ruts against his thigh, the friction in his suit almost overwhelming. They writhe there against the wall, a tangle of limbs and clothing, until Morgan twists his hand  _ just right  _ and his double whines and spills into his fist. Morgan thrusts against his thigh a few more times and then comes in his suit, whining a perfect echo of the other’s. 

Morgan thumps his head back against the wall while the other Morgan rests his head on his shoulder. “Does that count as masturbation?” he asks after a moment, and gets a huff of a laugh against his collarbone as a response.

“Mikhaila is never going to let me hear the end of this,” the other mumbles. 

Morgan isn’t sure whether this is a truce or just a temporary ceasefire, but for now they’re alive and they’re safe and he has hope that they can change their fate.

It’s enough for now.


End file.
